Monday, May 5, 2014

This Is Not Going To Become A Cat Blog

So I left a notice at the Post Office. I did not describe the cat because, as Vergil said, we don't want some crazy cat-hoarder to call and claim Maurice (yes, I am calling it Maurice and yes, she is a girl, I finally actually checked) as his or her own. I will need a good description before I hand her over. I also called and left notes at my closest neighbors' houses.
I woke up from a nap to find two of the children from across the street here.
"Mama says you found our cat," said the little boy.
"Did you lose your cat?" I asked.
"Yes."
"What color is your cat?"
"Orange tabby," said the little girl.
Relief flooded me.
I went to look for Maurice and she was not in the chair where she's been sitting most of the day. She was, however, peeking out from under the table and I swooped her up and presented her to the children.
"Here you go!" I said. "Your cat!"
They looked at the cat. They looked at me.
"That's not our cat," they said.

Oh hell.

Then I found the foot-long-including-tail skink, dead as a doornail beside the bathroom door off the kitchen, his poor body riddled with puncture wounds.

"Goddam it, Maurice! You're already killing things!"
And please- don't bother to tell me that cats bringing in their kill for humans is a sign of affection.
This ain't my first cat rodeo.

Sigh.

Okay. For everyone who did not understand how the mason jar thing worked this morning:

This is what my blender looks like. Yours probably looks similar.

The jar part unscrews from the band which holds the blades and gasket. Correct?

(Yes. That is mold. You should see my walls.)

So unscrew your blender jar from the gasket/blade/band.

Fill your mason jar with whatever you want in your concoction.

Screw the band/blades/gasket on to the top of the mason jar where the lid would go if you were making jam. This seals in the liquid, just as it does with the blender jar.

Put that puppy into the base.
Blend.
Take it off, turn it back right-side up, unscrew the band/blades/gasket and enjoy your whatever-you-made.

Now it does occur to me that many of you may not use mason jars to drink out of. I do and always have done. They fit my hand. They are a pleasing shape. They are cheap and sturdy. This is not a faux-country bullshit style thing. This is just how it is here in my house. When I met Mr. Moon and his parents came to visit for the first time, they saw all my mason jar drinking glasses and worried that I did not have real glasses. When we got married, guess what one of their presents to us was?
Yes. A box of lovely drinking glasses.
I wonder where those are. Probably long-since shattered on one floor or another.

Mr. Moon has left for auction, it is quiet here in Lloyd. I am pondering the conversation I had this morning with the man who sits in his truck at the end of Main Street when I was coming back from my walk. I usually only wave at him and say hello. He has never been much of a conversationalist with me. But I stopped to ask him if he or anyone he knew was missing a cat. He was not but said that people very often drop off cats at his house and he just feeds them. We talked about birds and squirrels (which he loves) and the dog he used to have. He loved that dog and someone shot it. He hasn't had the heart to get another one since. He also told me that he hates seeing me walk alone in the woods. That he doesn't think it's safe.
"But I never see anyone!" I said."You just never know," he said. And then he repeated, "I just hate seeing you do that. You should at least have a sturdy stick or something. There's people and animals, too."

I told him I appreciated his words and that I would consider them. And I will. But I do not want to be afraid. Nor do I want to be stupid. But still...after ten years walking my path, should I really change my route in order to stay in more populated areas?

No matter what I decide, it is good to know that people do have their eyes out. That my safety is being considered.

I think I'm coming down with a cold. I'm going to go to bed early tonight, rest up. It is so beautiful, so very peaceful here this evening. I wish you could see it.

I guess in a way, you have. And it is no wonder that I never feel lonely.

15 comments:

That Maurice is one gentle soul to put up with your gender finding mission.

Hey -- a friend just texted me (ironically) and said that her brother had found a stray and they took it to the local vet to see if it was microshipped. That's pretty standard nowadays -- kittens even come from shelters microchipped. You may want to try that with M.

I have a magic bullet blender that uses that same method and has you screw these plastic mason jars on it. Looks like I got ripped off =) I should have used that DIY method.

Also, I'd be more worried about the guy issuing you a warning, maybe he's a killer and this is the part of the movie that he gives you a warning. This is how my brain works. I walk alone all the time, well, I have my dog with me but seriously, she's so friendly, she'd probably let the killer kill me then she'd go walk with HIM! Just bring your phone, you'll be fine.

Awww, poor skink. This is definitely the downside of cat ownership. She will take a toll on the critters in your yard. (And what about your chickens? I don't know anything about how cats and chickens get along -- or don't.)

Heartinhand had the same thought I did -- I'd be suspicious of the guy in the truck!

when i read this post the first time i thought you said the kitty was peeing under the table and thought to myself, no wonder those kids don't want it back! then i thought that didnt make sense and read it again.

Syd- I am not glad I have the cat. One more creature to take care of. I suppose this is some sort of karma. Or not.

SJ- But you get paid to go to work! I would have to pay the vet! There is a difference.

Elizabeth- There is no turning of the jar upside down until you have screwed the band/gasket/blades on top. You are a city girl but that's okay.

Birdie- I'd have to carry the dog. They are too old to go for walks that last more than five minutes.

Heartinhand- Haha! He is so not a killer. I think.

Steve Reed- Since the cat won't leave the house, I have no idea how she acts around chickens. She will hardly leave my side.

Mrs. A- Haha! She better NOT be peeing in this house. That's her one way ticket to the shelter.Not sure about the past tense of skink but your idea would make sense. Alive, it's a skink. Dead, it is a skank.

It's peanut butter jars here (they were free with the peanut butter). After the kids broke all the regular glasses I just started washing out the peanut butter jars. The kids have been long grown but we still use the jars.

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